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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26537281">Solidity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrivolousFlight/pseuds/FrivolousFlight'>FrivolousFlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:29:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26537281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrivolousFlight/pseuds/FrivolousFlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly bad incident during a case, Gavin needs more time and help than he's ever needed before to recover and get back to himself again. Luckily, Connor is there along the way to make things easier. He's ready to help in the long days to come, and he's determined to not let Gavin go through recovery alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor &amp; Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson &amp; Connor, Hank Anderson &amp; Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson &amp; Jeffrey Fowler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clenching his jaw tight, Gavin takes a few stumbling steps back, grabbing at his arm where blood had started to bead over his fresh wound. He watches the man saunter closer before jerkily leaping and slashing his blade across empty air, coming inches away from Gavin’s face.</p>
<p>Gavin reaches for his gun and unholsters it to take aim. He’s about to merely shoot the man in the leg, but then his back is pressed to a hard, unforgiving surface and his head is spinning. When he gains his bearings once more, he sees the knife gleaming and poised at his chest.</p>
<p>There’s a weight pinning him down. The knife clatters somewhere nearby, but Gavin barely hears it with how loudly his ears are ringing. He pants and struggles against the weight, and even after it’s removed, he scrambles to get away. His back hits the wall. He struggles to his feet and sways precariously when his vision tunnels and his head pounds. A moan escapes his lips when his head begins to throb in time with his rapidly beating heart. He dully feels someone taking his gun out of his hands, and despite hearing their voice, it’s all unimportant white-noise: something he could fall asleep to in the late hours of the night. They ask a question, and then they repeat it. Gavin only shakes his head and jerks his gaze over to meet Connor’s eyes. They swim uneasily in Gavin’s vision.</p>
<p>“Fuck… Fuck off, plastic prick…” Gavin growls weakly, his voice shaking on every other syllable as the words are forced from his throat. He narrows his eyes defiantly and scowls when Connor grows close. “Get away…”</p>
<p>Connor motions to the floor next to the wall with a calm air about him, forcing himself to restrain from grabbing Gavin’s arm when he makes a move towards the staircase. “Detective, I advise you to sit down. You need to take a moment to breath and focus. The EMTs are on route already, so you need to be patient while awaiting their-” He doesn’t have time to add more when he sees Gavin’s knees buckle, immediately reaching out to take him close before he can fall.</p>
<p>“Careful.” Connor holds Gavin to his chest as he helps them both to sit on the concrete ground. Despite Gavin’s lashing out against the touch, Connor endures the elbow to his abdomen and arm and holds strong to Gavin until he’s sure that he’s sitting soundly. “Detective, please listen to me. You need to breathe and calm down.”</p>
<p>Gavin stutters out something before cursing under his breath. He shoves Connor away with palms to his shoulders and mumbles out, “Fuck, fuck off, tin can…” </p>
<p>Connor moves back a couple inches and watches Gavin silently as he fidgets and trembles. Gavin glances around and catches sight of the dead body, and it’s enough to get Connor to decide it’s best to speak when Gavin glances down and notices the blood that’s covering his chest. </p>
<p>“Detective, look at me.” Connor waits patiently for a few seconds before repeating the request. When Gavin still has yet to comply or even acknowledge that Connor spoke, Connor glances around and analyzes the situation at hand before asking instead, “Gavin, could you tell me about your cat? I heard from Ms. Chen that you have one.”</p>
<p>Gavin hugs himself tightly and briefly glances up to look at Connor. “My…”</p>
<p>“Your cat. I’m aware of the fact that you have one, and I’d like to know their name, if they’ve been given one,” Connor offers.</p>
<p>The silence seems deafening, and it speaks multitudes. Gavin normally would’ve told him to fuck off or shoved him, but instead, his eyes meet the ground and stay there for a solid ten seconds before he cautiously says, “His name is Prime…”</p>
<p>“That’s a lovely name, Detective.” Connor smiles warmly, though Gavin doesn’t look up to see it. “Does it have any significance?”</p>
<p>“Optimus Prime. Transformer from, from all those movies and stuff…” Gavin begins to pick at the concrete pieces that have been torn up by cars moving across the parking garage.</p>
<p>“That’s very nice. May I ask what he’s like? Is he friendly?”</p>
<p>“Playful… Little shit…”</p>
<p>“He must be young, then. By what I’ve gathered, kittens tend to be playful and disruptive.”</p>
<p>“Yeah… Three months old… He’s a baby…”</p>
<p>“He is. Maybe you can introduce me to him one day?”</p>
<p>“Sure, whatever…” </p>
<p>Connor looks up from Gavin when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs. When they reach the landing, Connor recognizes Fowler and Hank, both of which maintain their distance when they see the situation. Fowler is about to speak up when Connor stands and makes his way over to the pair.</p>
<p>“Detective Reed was being assaulted by our suspect, and killed the man in self defense.” Connor explains, voice even and low. He’s professional so as to not let emotion seep into his words. “His stress levels are unnaturally high for a human, and he’s not very responsive. He almost fell a moment ago when he tried to stand, as well, which I assume is linked to standing too suddenly and the slight head injury he sustained when he was tackled to the ground. He-”</p>
<p>“Enough of the diagnosis, Connor,” Hank snaps curtly. He motion vaguely in Gavin’s direction. The man in question seems to be lost to his thoughts; he doesn’t react to their words about him. “What’s going on with Reed?”</p>
<p>“A traumatic event can lead to people getting distracted from the things around them by their thoughts. I suppose that’s what he is going through currently.” Looking back at Gavin, Connor watches as he idly picks at concrete and fidgets with his sleeves, glancing around as though waiting for something. “I suggest that we help him in whatever way possible, though I don’t know what way that would be. I did manage to get him to talk about his kitten, but the conversation was brief, and he seemed distracted the entire time. We could still try to get him to talk about other, little things while waiting for the EMTs to arrive. He should be reassured of his safety and security, as well.”</p>
<p>Fowler and Hank share a look before Fowler walks past Connor with a sigh. Gavin’s eyes immediately lock on Fowler when he approaches, a scowl already contorting his features and making his eyes darken. When Fowler sits in front of him, Gavin’s hands grasp at his jacket, refusing his previous movements and hiding his trembling by clenching tightly down on the hem. </p>
<p>“The fuck do you want,” Gavin growls weakly, his voice shaking and stuttering just slightly, though he does well at hiding it.</p>
<p>Fowler meets Gavin’s eyes, barely containing his irritation at Gavin’s remark. “The EMTs are on the way,” He explains with a gesture to Gavin’s arm. “You should keep pressure on that in the meantime.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off…” Despite his words, Gavin brings his hand up to hold the wound once more, wincing when he first touches it.</p>
<p>“That’s good.” Fowler pauses and watches Gavin as he adjusts the way he’s sitting a couple different times. “Reed…” The second he says the name and Gavin glances up at him with a look torn between pain mixed with panic and irritation with his usual defiance, Fowler falters and shakes his head. “It can wait until tomorrow. After you’ve gotten checked out and rested.” He reaches forward to pat Gavin’s shoulder, but his wrist is caught and held in a rough, callused grip. When he pulls his hand back, Gavin retracts his hand to hold over his wound once more, trembling returning tenfold. “They’ll be here soon. I need to work on this mess, but come in tomorrow morning. We’ll talk.” Fowler stands and flashes Gavin another concerned look before heading toward the stairs. He glances over at Connor. “Make sure he gets him safe. Leave him a note or something so he knows to come in sometime before ten tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Connor meets Fowler’s eyes and gives him an affirmative nod. “I’ll make sure to do that, sir.”</p>
<p>With a nod of his own, Fowler continues to the stairs. He’s out of sight in a few seconds leaving the remaining three to their own devices. </p>
<p>“Fuck,” Gavin curses through his teeth. Connor turns to see what’s the issue and reaches out to grab Gavin’s arm when he sees him standing.</p>
<p>“You need to rest, Detective. Please, sit.” Connor doesn't flinch or waver when Gavin attempts to push him away and punch his gut. “Androids don’t feel pain if that is your intent, Detective.”</p>
<p>“Get <em> off </em> of me, plastic!” With another harsh shove, Gavin glares up at Connor and scowls.</p>
<p>Connor sighs softly and meets Gavin’s gaze with a frown. “Detective, it is in your best interest to sit down and rest while waiting for the EMTs.”</p>
<p>“It’s in your fucking best interest to let me fucking go,” Gavin growls and attempts to pull his arm away, but Connor only marginally increases his grip. “Let go of me!”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I won’t do that. You’re only going to hurt yourself further if left alone.”</p>
<p>“I know how to take care of my damn self. Let go of me.”</p>
<p>“No, I won-”</p>
<p>“Connor, let him go,” Hank demands quietly from just behind Connor. He sets a hand on Connor’s shoulder to grab his attention and meet his eyes. “You’re not making it any better keeping him hostage.” </p>
<p>Connor’s LED circles yellow twice before returning to a cool blue. He takes his hand back from Gavin’s arm and watches him take a few steps back. Gavin glares at him and flashes the same look Hank’s way before he starts to pace back and forth from one pillar to another, chewing on his lip as he does so. As he paces, Connor traces his movement and goes to help when he stumbles only to be stopped by Hank.</p>
<p>“Just step back and let him do his thing. He’ll be fine.” Hank watches Gavin before walking away to lean against a pillar of his own. He glances over, watching the yellow light spin against Connor’s temple. “Connor, he’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>“Lieutenant, I’m unsure if this is the best means to deal with the situation,” Connor states calmly. He meets Hank’s eyes and frowns. “Would it not be in our best interest to console him? From what I’ve gather-”</p>
<p>“Everyone’s different, Connor. That asshole likes to treat you like a punching bag when he’s traumatized, so take a break and step away. You’re gonna have to take him home and deal with him there, so don’t blow your chances at being on his ‘good’ side now.” Hank makes air quotes with a roll of his eyes. “He’s fine.” Connor hesitates, and the silence is enough of a cue to Hank that he can walk off towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get a head start on paperwork. I can pick you up later, if you want?”</p>
<p>“I’ll take a cab, Lieutenant, don’t worry. I’ll contact you when I get to Detective Reed’s place of residence and when I leave.”</p>
<p>“Alright. You’ll be fine dealing with him?”</p>
<p>“Of course. I can handle this situation easily. I’ll hopefully sort everything out in a few hours.”</p>
<p>“Alright…” Hank sighs and waves. “I’ll see you later, son.”</p>
<p>Connor waves back and turns to watch Gavin pace. He’s now biting harshly on his lip, enough so to break skin and bleed. “Detective Reed, I advise you stop biting your lip. You’re causing yourself harm.” Gavin doesn’t even look his way, and so Connor adds, “Detective, you’re causing your lip to bleed. I recommend you stop before you hurt yourself further.” Again, he doesn’t acknowledge Connor even spoke. Connor merely sighs and looks away, assessing the situation. “The EMTs should arrive in the next five or so minutes. They’ll treat your arm, and I’m assuming your lip will also be dealt with appropriately.”</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up for once, you piece of worthless plastic!” Gavin’s voice is low. He turns on his heel to face Connor, staring up at him with a piercing glare. “Shut the hell up. All you have to say is fucking- fucking gibberish about statistics and what’s gonna happen when the EMTs get here. If you’re fucking deviant, then how come you can’t say jack shit about that man who was killed? Huh? Just gonna brush that fact under the rug? That man is <em> dead </em>!”</p>
<p>“And I acknowledge that, however-” </p>
<p>“No, you’re fucking pretending like that didn’t happen! You’re ignoring it completely. You’re pretending there isn’t a dead body ten feet away just laying there on this damn floor!”</p>
<p>“I can assure you that I’m not-”</p>
<p>“Shut the <em> hell </em> up!” Gavin gestures over to the body and grabs his shirt with the other. “I fucking killed that man! I shot him dead, and all you’re doing is repeating the same thing like a damn mockingbird. ‘The EMTs are almost here, the EMTs are almost here.’ Over and over again, and you’re just glazing over the fact that there is a dead man just lying over there and-”</p>
<p>“Detective Reed,” Connor snaps. Gavin bristles and grows more irritated while taking a step back from Connor. “Just because I am not talking about the dead man doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking about him. It would only cause you more distress if I addressed that issue. Instead, I’m choosing to put it aside in favor of looking out for you as you just went through something that most would call traumatizing, and for that reason, I am watching over you to make sure that you’ll remain safe despite the circumstances. I am well aware of what you did, but I’m also aware that it was in self defense as I witnessed it myself.”</p>
<p>A short, humorless laugh forces it way past Gavin’s lips as he stalks closer to Connor. “So that’s what this is? Some sort of pity party?”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I was intending.” Connor takes a step back when Gavin takes a swing at his jaw. “Detective, listen to-”</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up! I don’t need your pity, plastic prick,” Gavin spits out and lunges at Connor. Connor catches and holds his wrist in a steady grip. “I don’t need your goddamn sympathy.” His other hand gets caught and held next to Connor’s jaw. “I don’t need you watch over me like some fucking <em> kid </em>!” When his shin meets Connor’s, Gavin winces and leans heavily onto his left leg to avoid putting any pressure on his other. “Shit- fuck… God dammit!” </p>
<p>Connor brings Gavin’s hands closer to him before letting go. “Detective, assaulting me will hurt you far more than me, and you’re already hurt enough as it is.” He gently presses down on Gavin’s wound causing the latter to startle back and scowl. “You agitated your wound. You need to attempt to relax and apply pressure to your arm.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off…” Gavin steps closer once more, but the sound of footsteps and voices causes him to jerk his head toward the staircase. He watches, wide-eyed, as EMTs scale the last few stairs to reach their landing. When they approach, Gavin’s eyes narrow and he scowls.</p>
<p>One of the EMTs steps forward. He holds a plastic box in his hands and it knocks against his leg as he walks. “My name is Aiden, and this is Carlyle,” He introduces, motioning to the man behind him before turning his attention to Gavin upon seeing Connor’s LED. “We’re going to help treat you, today. The lieutenant greeted us when we arrived and said that your arm was cut, sir?” </p>
<p>Gavin scoffs and meets Aiden’s eyes with a glare. “Detective, and it’s fine.”</p>
<p>“They’re only trying to help, Detective Reed.” Connor watches the second EMT motion for him to be quiet. He sighs softly and takes a step away.</p>
<p>Carlyle steps forward in Connor’s place and offers out a hand to take Gavin’s arm. “Would it be alright if I have a look? As soon as this is over with, you can go home and rest, Detective.”</p>
<p>It takes a few hesitant seconds before Gavin takes off his jacket and ties it around his waist. He lets Carlyle take his arm. The rubber of the glove he wears sets Gavin’s nerves alight, and his muscles tense up instantly. “Just get it over with… Got better things to deal with than this bullshit…”</p>
<p>The trembling in Gavin’s shoulders and hands as his arm is treated and he goes through tests doesn’t go unnoticed by Connor. He watches silently as Gavin endures his pulse being taken and questions being asked, flinching away from each initial touch. </p>
<p>When they’re done with their tests, the EMTs take a step back, and Carlyle glances over to Connor before turning his attention back to Gavin to talk to him about taking care of his wound. Gavin only brushes him off with a snap about it being obvious what he’ll need to do. He scoffs and heads towards the stairs when they’re finished. Connor follows closely after Gavin with the EMTs maintaining their distance behind them. </p>
<p>They pass a cop and a crime scene specialist who holds a camera to their chest, both of them pay them barely any mind until Gavin makes a snide comment under his breath. They both growl unpleasantries under their breaths, though it’s just quiet enough for Gavin, now steps away, to not hear them. Gavin bristles after they pass, however, and after they’re gone, he pulls his coat back on and huddles into it, flipping the hood up when they’re on the grass outside the building. When prompted, he roughly presses his keys into Connor’s hands, causing the keys on the ring to press into Connor’s synthetic skin uncomfortably. He mumbles an address under his breath as he leads the way to a silver car parked just across the street.</p>
<p>Gavin huddles into the passenger’s seat when the car is unlocked. His cheek is pressed into the seatbelt with his hood still pulled over to hide his face. He flinches when Connor closes his door but relaxes as he hears the engine of the car rumble to life. With one last check on Gavin, Connor watches the street and oncoming traffic before pulling out and beginning the drive to Gavin’s house, giving him the silence he believes Gavin is hoping to have.<br/>
<br/>
The entire drive back to Gavin’s house is silent. Not a word is said, and Connor is half convinced Gavin fell asleep on the way back until he shifts to open the door when they’re parked in front of the apartment complex. He’s very clearly not as present as he usually is, but he’s responsive enough for Connor to not question him on the matter. </p>
<p>When they walk further inside, Gavin’s lips quirk up slightly when he sees a kitten emerge from underneath the couch, stretching out their paws and back with a yawn. They trot over to Gavin and do figure eights around his legs until they notice Connor. Their back fur raises, but they still stalk closer to sniff at Connor’s legs and his hand after Connor crouches.</p>
<p>“You must be Prime…” Connor smiles warmly when the kitten allows him to pet its head. He mews and butts his head into Connor’s head. “You’re a very sweet kitten…” He continues to pet through Prime’s short fur until he hears something spill from a back room. When he stands, Prime skitters away to go investigate the back room. As he follows, Connor asks, “Detective, are you alright?”</p>
<p>He stands in the doorway to the backmost room and frowns upon seeing Gavin staring at the cat food spilled across the floor. His gaze shifts to watch Prime before looking up to see Connor. Gavin’s nose and brow crease as he scowls and shakes his hand dismissively. “Got this… Fuck off, toaster.”</p>
<p>Connor instead crouches and picks Prime up. He sets the kitten in the hallway before shutting the door and scooping cat food into his hands. “Open the bag for me, please?” </p>
<p>Gavin narrows his eyes with a scoff before doing as asked. He silently watches as Connor drops a handful of kibble into the bag before gathering more up and dropping it in. Again and again, he repeats this process in relative silence until the floor is clear at which point he takes the bag from Gavin and pours a sufficient amount onto a plate for Prime. </p>
<p>“Do you have a broom and dust pan?” Connor asks quietly when he doesn’t see either in the room they’re in which, from the looks of it, is a small extra room that could easily be converted into a guest bedroom if it weren’t for the boxes that line the far wall and the few miscellaneous items that are strewn across the room in a disorderly fashion.</p>
<p>There’s a short pause before Gavin answers back, “In the kitchen.” He startles slightly when Connor abruptly stands and leaves to get the broom.</p>
<p>Connor picks Prime up before he can run back into the room. Upon Gavin’s muttering, however, Connor turns around to give Prime over to him. Gavin’s lips portray the faintest hint of a smile as Prime begins to purr. He's cuddled up in Gavin’s arms, nuzzling his nose into Gavin’s neck and hands. The sight leads to Connor smiling fondly as he goes to find the broom and dust pan.</p>
<p><br/>
Connor left no more than thirty minutes after he first arrived. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome or make Gavin uncomfortable or irritable with his presence, but he did tell Gavin that he would make an effort to check in periodically to be sure he was safe and taking care of himself. He also left a sticky note on the coffee pot - a metal one that resisted the sticky note an irritating number of times before it finally stuck. The simple note was a reminder to talk to Fowler the next morning, and it was something he hoped Gavin would see before ten the next morning, but given the detective’s tardiness on normal work days, Connor wouldn’t be surprised if he was late, if only by a few minutes.</p>
<p>What he didn’t expect was for Gavin to arrive at the same time as usual. His normal scowl was present, but his hands, normally clutched around a warm coffee cup, were now balled up at his sides, hiding the slight anxious quiver that he hadn’t been able to shake off. His eyes show evidence of his sleepless night as they hold dark bags underneath, and no amount of caffeine could hide his more sluggish movements and actions. He growls out a curse when he runs into someone and tells them off when they try to defend themself. Connor gains a glare when Gavin finally notices his vigilance over the situation at hand.</p>
<p>Gavin disappears into Fowler’s office with his head lower than when he came into the office, but the usual irritable tension follows him regardless. Everyone’s eyes are turned as the door closes. It only takes seconds for them to return back to work, but the second that there’s yelling, the eyes return and stay trained and waiting on the door; however, the door doesn’t open for another twenty minutes when everyone’s gotten back to their separate tasks.</p>
<p>Hood hiked up over his head, Gavin stalks from the office and from Fowler who had moved to watch him go. In Fowler’s hand is a badge, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the cops that looked to him for an explanation. When the door to the precinct is slammed shut, everyone falls into a stunned silence and wearily continues about their work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Next Week</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gavin slumps down against the couch. Prime prowls over to him and hops up beside Gavin with a cute little ‘prrow’ of curiosity. When he’s offered out a hand, Prime butts his head against it and coaxes Gavin into petting down his back and scratching at his cheeks and chin while he purrs loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like a fuckin’ truck,” Gavin remarks, picking the kitten up in his hands to study his eyes. Prime immediately begins to cry for more attention and wiggles to be set down. Gavin obliges and watches as Prime curls up in his lap after a few minutes more of petting and getting spoiled with scratches behind his ears. With a hand resting on the kitten’s flank, Gavin tilts his head back to watch the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thoughts plague him more than they usually do. With Fowler forcing him into therapy, Gavin dreads the upcoming week when it’ll start and longs for nothing more than to delve into a giant workload to ignore these pestering thoughts. They flutter in his head like spilled paper fliers, scattering across a street due to wind, each having to be picked up and reigned in before they can get too far and are pushed farther away with another sharp gust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin can do nothing but watch as his fliers scatter around him, a torrent of wind forcing the papers in odd places he can’t reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, Gavin groans and covers his face with his free hand. “This is fucking bullshit…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime stands and moves from under Gavin’s hand to instead press his front paws into his chest and look up at Gavin with a quizzical meow. Gavin pets his head with a long sigh. “I’ll pick up a job somewhere in the meantime… Fowler’s helping with therapy bills because it’s fuckin’ expensive so at least there’s that…” When his phone lights up with an alert - he’d given up on a ringer a long time ago because of how often it would startle him - Gavin reaches over to the side table and grabs it. Gavin adds after reading an alert, “And Connor apparently thinks I’m some sorta charity case, and the plastic prick’s gonna bring groceries and shit tomorrow… Fuck this…” He tosses his phone to the opposite end of the couch without responding and growls out curses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime mews in protest and rubs his cheek into Gavin’s neck. Soon enough, he settled with his head laying on Gavin’s shoulder and body resting on Gavin’s chest. Seeing as he doesn’t plan to get up anytime soon, Gavin closes his eyes and leans back more so Prime isn’t as likely to slip. Comfortable and content, Prime begins to purr and fall slowly back asleep, and though Prime does help to a degree, Gavin’s head still feels foggy and his body feels weaker than normal - almost as though his bones are weighed down by lead and he’s attempting to move through water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he begins to relax, Gavin jerks from his reverie with a hand outstretched, ready to push someone away. His eyes are wide in panic, and the air around him seems to be pressing in with insurmountable force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one is there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Awoken by Gavin, Prime slinks away from him, stretching his legs as he leaves to curl up on the opposite end of the couch where he won’t be disturbed. Gavin watches him go, but it feels distant. It’s almost like watching something happen on TV or listening to someone describe a story to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he can think of is that man, dying right on top of him after being shot. His thoughts are a torrent of images. His bright blood, drenching and soaking into the man’s clothes and Gavin’s own. The way his body laid there after it was pushed aside by Connor. Oxygen rich and oxygen poor blood pooled where he lay, and Gavin can’t get that image out of his mind, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself by digging his nails into his hand and his scalp out of a desire to get his brain to cooperate. He can only hear the ringing in his ears from the gun shot, and the clatter of the knife, again and again. He can’t shake it. The second he stands to get water, the thoughts follow and crowd him like flies to a corpse. No matter how much he swats them away, they return, eager, malicious, and buzzing with delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reaches the kitchen, Gavin practically falls against the counter as his vision tunnels. His forearms hit against the solid, unforgiving countertop. They sting at the force, but he doesn't pay it any mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts his eyes, fighting back against his unrelenting thoughts with calm, deep breaths that shake his shoulders. As more time passes, his head clears just enough for Gavin to properly stand and fix himself a glass of ice water, the cold of which helps to ground him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime trots over, obviously curious about the racket. He paws at Gavin’s jeans, messing with loose threads that hang within reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin glances down at Prime. Within a few more seconds of pawing, Prime convinces Gavin to sit down against the kitchen cabinets. Prime mews upon accomplishing his goal and crawls into Gavin’s lap before chasing after his hands. He butts his head against Gavin’s hands or, when they are not in reach, his chest and legs with agitated meows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he watches Prime and pets him, a small smile falls over Gavin’s lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple fliers are drawn back in by his playful kitten. Prime will run off and bring another one in his mouth, triumphantly butting his head against Gavin’s legs before scurrying off after another. Despite some still being forced from his hands, Gavin doesn’t mind in the least since he takes extra care to maintain control over those given to him by Prime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With every sudden noise from his neighbors in the apartment next door, a slew of papers scatters and Prime stands still and unmoving until the noise settles. He eventually will leave to bring back two more and, with them, a couple more pets are awarded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Gavin sets his glass aside and picks Prime up to kiss his forehead and touch Prime’s nose to his own. Prime playfully bats at Gavin’s cheeks until he’s let down again. Then he darts off to bring a brightly colored, torn mouse toy back to Gavin, placing it on the ground within Gavin’s reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin tosses it into the living room and watches Prime chase after it, tearing it further by digging his back claws into the toy’s torn underbelly. He brings it back a couple minutes later and sets it on the kitchen floor, fluff now half spilling from the toy. At the sight of Prime standing gleefully over his shredded toy, Gavin quirks a small grin and pets his kitten’s head. He tosses the toy again and again. Each time it’s brought back, it’s thrown once more until Prime tires and leaves to lap at his water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling lighter, Gavin takes his glass and fills it once more before returning to the living room. He glances around once, taking in the sight. When he retrieves his phone from the couch, he looks over Connor’s messages once more. Eventually he decides to respond with a simple, “Do what you want,” before turning off his phone. There’s no reason to keep it on. With it off, he powers down the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime is scooped up the second he steps foot into the living room. He’s cradled close to Gavin’s chest and pampered with gentle pets. Gavin sets him on the bed when they get to his room, but Prime doesn’t stay there long and decides it best to dart into the closet the second it’s opened. When Gavin sees him peaking his nose from inside the box there, he chuckles and rolls his eyes fondly. “Kitten…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin picks out some clothes and tosses them out onto his bed. As he changes, Prime migrates back over to the bed and curls up on the foot of it with a yawn. He only moves when Gavin crawls under the covers. His clothes are tossed close to his hamper, but he can’t seem to care when Prime lays down on his chest, kneading at the blanket between them. When he pets Prime’s cheeks, Gavin is rewarded with a loud, happy purr that helps curve his lips up in a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, cat,” Gavin mumbles. Prime’s only response is a stretch before he curls up and slowly drifts off to sleep. As he’s petting Prime, Gavin is glad to start feeling exhaustion tug at him. It only takes about ten minutes for Gavin to fall asleep, something that rarely happens.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The next morning, a couple knocks at his door rile Gavin from his sleep. More accurately, Prime jumping up to hide beneath the bed wakes Gavin up with a hiss as Prime’s claws dig into his arm. “Brat…” He growls with no heat behind it. “Who the fuck…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stands, Gavin lazily finds and pulls a shirt on. Apparently he wasn’t moving fast enough for the visitor who raps on the door once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Detective Reed? It’s Connor,” The visitor announces, far too awake considering the time of day it is. “May I come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin looks up at the door at the end of his hallway and sighs heavily. “Fucking… Fine…” With a groan of exasperation, he meanders down the hall and unlocks the deadbolt and chain before opening the door and facing Connor who stands with cloth grocery bags in hand, a small smile pulling at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Detective.” His voice is cheery, and Gavin decides it’s far too cheery for whatever hour it may be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin scowls and wrinkles up his nose at Connor, though he still moves aside when prompted by the android. He presses his back to the door when Connor steps through the threshold. He lets himself explore the apartment briefly before setting the bags in the kitchen on the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought various foods for you. Angel hair pasta, vegetables, fruits, some other, simple meals that only need to be heated, though still have high nutritional value. It’s almost time for lunch, so I could help make you something? Going by scan alone, something high in sodium and vitamins might be best as the sodium can help you retain water and the vitamins can help you feel well.” Connor turns to face Gavin who leans against the refrigerator with an unamused frown. “Is everything alright, Detective?” The question only earns a scowl in response. Deciding it best not to press the matter, Connor sets about putting everything away in the cabinets and refrigerator when Gavin moves aside. “I’ll go ahead and make you lunch. and fresh vegetables. How does that sound?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin shrugs dismissively and walks back towards his bedroom to look for Prime. Although he doesn’t fully trust or like Connor, he knows that the plastic prick wouldn’t do anything stupid or harmful: he’s smart enough to not do anything undesirable. A part of him is also hoping that if he complies, Connor will leave sooner, but if there’s one thing he’s awful at, it’s complying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Connor steps closer and grabs his arm, Gavin immediately tears his arm away and shoves Connor back. Since he was caught slightly off guard, Connor stumbles into the counter with a worried look in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands to yourself, prick,” Gavin growls, stalking closer. He glares up at Connor as he steps up to him, standing close enough for their feet to touch if Connor wasn’t standing so awkwardly splayed back against the counter. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking act like any of this fucking matters, and don’t baby me or give me that fucking look…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor sidesteps to get away and nods. “Understood, Detective. Although, might I just add that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even bother. Shut the hell up.” Gavin watches Connor for a few extra seconds, and upon his nod, steps away and leaves him in the kitchen. This time, Connor doesn’t grab his arm or call after him. He’s met with silence and the quiet sound of a cabinet opening and closing, then another, then the sound of a pot tapping against the stove as it’s set down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin brushes at his face with a long, heavy sigh. He hates that he slept almost until noon, and he hates the onsetting headache, throbbing in time with his heart rate. It hurts behind his eyes, and so he presses his thumb and index finger into them in hopes to ease the pain even marginally. It helps only slightly, but he soon eases off the pressure to find his way back to his room to fish Prime from under the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he gets to his room, he hears Prime mew from under the bed. He lays on his stomach on the floor and glances around under the bed until he sees Prime crawling over boxes to get to him. “Hey, bud… Get your ass over here. It’s just the terminator.” Prime sniffs his face when close enough and meows again, pawing at Gavin’s hand. “Stop that,” Gavin mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin picks Prime up and carries him to the hall. Before setting him down, Gavin shuts his bedroom door and gives the kitten a couple chin scratches. Prime hurries off when he’s let down, though he skids to a halt and hisses at the sight of Connor in the kitchen. He still advances curiously, but he keeps his distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following after Prime, Gavin leans against the wall at the entrance of the kitchen and watches Connor cook. He’s already cut up vegetables and is now putting everything back into their respective containers as he waits for the water to boil. It’s then that he takes notice of Gavin who’s been regarding him with a scowl. Upon seeing Prime, Connor sits on the floor to offer a hand out for the kitten to sniff at. It takes a few seconds, but Prime eventually rubs his cheek against the offered hand with a small ‘prrow’. Connor smiles and looks pleased with himself when he stands to wash his hands once more, drying them off on a dish towel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor checks the water once more. When he sees it’s still rising to a boil, he leans against the counter and faces Gavin. “I hope you like green beans, onions, spinach, mushrooms, and bell peppers. I cut them up for the pasta, and I’ll cook them over the stove shortly.” His answer is a shrug. “I hope you’re recovering after last week’s incident, Detective. It was a very stressful situation, and no one blames you for what happened in any regard. You did what you had to do to prevent your own death.” This causes the lips at the corner of Gavin’s lips to curl, much like a feral dog. His voice even mimics a growl when he speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> try to fucking justify that shit, asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. I’ll refrain from speaking another word on that matter unless it’s causing you distress or you initiate the conversation. However, may I ask how you’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just fucking peachy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you’re lying to me, Detective.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit, sherlock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Detective, it’d be appreciated if you would comply so that I can assist you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, plastic prick…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response gains Gavin a slight crease in Connor’s eyebrows. His LED lights up red and yellow briefly before fading to blue. “Fine. As you wish.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the room is washed over in silence except for the sound of the water and stove, Gavin feels suffocated and withdrawals into himself with arms crossed over his chest. The mannerism doesn’t go unnoticed by Connor who glances over and watches Gavin for a few seconds between turning back to pay attention to cooking the vegetables. As he assesses the situation, Connor makes a few notes:</span>
</p><ul>
<li><span>Gavin doesn’t want to be alone.</span></li>
<li><span>Gavin doesn’t want to be pressed on any personal or emotional matter despite his turmoil.</span></li>
<li><span>Gavin would rather not be pampered or treated nicely for some, unknown reason.</span></li>
</ul><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though none of it makes any sense to him, Connor keeps it in mind as he tries to think of ways to progress the conversation without upsetting Gavin further. Eventually, he comes across three possible ways to approach the situation: remain silent, discuss something safe, or press the earlier matter in hopes of it resolving to some degree. The first seems to be the most safe, with the last being the most risky, so Connor ends up choosing the middlemost option for its simplicity and because it caters to both of them; it caters to Gavin because it breaks the awkward silence that Connor’s come to notice is making him far more anxious than necessary and it caters to Connor and his near constant need to know more about the people he interacts with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prime is a very sweet kitten. I’m glad I got the opportunity to meet him these last few visits,” Connor starts with a fond smile. “I’m sure that he’s going to grow to be an excellent cat with time, patience, and care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin nods. His shoulders fall as he leans further into the wall, relaxing against it. “He’s decent. A little shit at times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does he do? Knock over water cups?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. All fucking cats do it. They’re little shits…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know that, Detective.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ‘cause all you and Anderson have is that fucking mutt. I bet it just drools on everything and fucks everything up..." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t entirely true. He’s good company when both Hank and myself are going through intense emotional situations. He doesn’t judge and is very sweet regardless of whatever is going on in our lives. It’s unbiased and unconditional love. He’s a very innocent and loveable animal, and I’m sure you’d come to appreciate him if you gave him time and the opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cats are cleaner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said that Prime likes to make messes like those with the water cups?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t that go to show that they aren’t all that clean compared to dogs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most don’t drool, and they clean themselves, unlike fucking mutts. Prime’s a little shit, but he won’t track mud through the house and get filthy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood.” Connor nods and glances back over at Gavin who’s lips quirk up in a slight grin when said cat comes into the kitchen, sniffing at Connor’s legs and pawing at the seam of his pants. “Hello, Prime. I believe we were just talking about you.” Instead of paying the cat the attention he’s begging for, Connor takes to turning off the stove and draining the pasta. He gingerly scoops out some into a bowl, pouring vegetables on top. “I noticed you had parmesan cheese and butter in the fridge earlier. Would you like me to take them out for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin scoffs and walks the couple feet to the fridge to grab both items. He shifts his hold on them to grab a salt shaker from the counter. He sets them all next to the bowl. Nudging Connor away with his elbow, Gavin begins to prepare his lunch. Despite trying to maintain a scowl and cold demeanor, he relaxes at the smell of the food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoops up the bowl and gently shoves a begging Prime away with his foot. “Not for you,” Gavin growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor watches him take a seat at the couch, slouching back into it. Though a word isn’t said, a silent ‘thank you’ is given after the first bite when Gavin glances over at him with unspoken relief and joy in his eyes. It makes Connor feel like they’re getting somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Gavin eats, Connor decides to clean up the kitchen. He’s never enjoyed doing dishes. It’s one of the few chores that he and Hank switch back and forth since neither enjoy it or even begin to tolerate it enough to do it every time the sink is full. Luckily, a schedule was made and maintained, and both were content with it. Now, despite his aversion to the task, Connor doesn’t care much as he works through the meager pile of dishes laid out on the counter beside the sink. He’s happy to not need to do many, but the numerous mugs and very few bowls, plates, and cutlery next to the sink draw his attention. His questions are answered when he throws away a stray piece of trash in the kitchen trash can and finds more take out boxes than he finds healthy. It reminds him of Hank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had gotten much better since Connor came into his life, but towards the beginning, his house was continuously messy and his eating habits were far from the best. However, this is a different circumstance. Judging by the tupperware in the fridge, Gavin can cook, and the paycheck he receives is plenty to feed one person. It makes Connor question his motives for his meals being as they are. However, he dismisses the questions temporarily; he wouldn’t be able to find an answer today no matter how hard he tries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin is still eating with Prime now trying to stick his head in Gavin’s bowl when Connor walks into the living room. Through a mouthful of food and trying to shove off Prime, Gavin growls, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing, Detective.” Connor grins as Prime lunges for the bowl, only to be stopped by a hand picking him up by his ribs. Despite his squirms, he isn’t let go and takes to crying. “Would you like me to take Prime and feed him in the back room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do what you want…” Gavin sets Prime on the floor and, before he can jump on the couch again, is picked up and held gently in Connor’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a pain, kitten,” Connor chastises as Prime wiggles and tries to escape his hold. He doesn’t relent and instead carries Prime to the backmost room of the apartment to feed him. Prime tries to run when he’s set down. When the door closes before him, Prime paws at it, meowing and running in circles around it to try and entice Connor into opening it back up. Connor smiles softly and gets the kitten a few gentle pets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor crouches beside Prime’s plate after taking the food bag from a nearby counter. When he fills the bowl, Prime sniffs at the kibble before returning to the door, his crying increasing. Paying it barely any mind, Connor glances around the room. He checks the door. Upon noticing it’s quiet in the other room, he silently walks over to one of the many boxes in the room and looks it over. There are dates on most of the boxes, and those that aren’t scribbled on in messy Sharpie have nothing identifying them. In total, Connor counts twelve boxes. Eight of those have dates with the earliest dating back to 2024. Gavin was twenty-two at the time. Unlike all the other boxes that have nothing else on them except dates, if even that, this one has messy drawings scrawled on the top box flaps of nothing particularly important. Moons, and stars, and planets, and constellations all litter the top, innocently staring back and daring Connor to reach out and open it. He doesn't, however. He takes a step away and inspects another box. This one doesn’t have a date, and it’s battered with traces of water damage along one of the bottom corners and with scratches and tears in the cardboard all along the sides. Connor takes a guess and assumes that it’s contents are either unimportant or really old and maybe even hold a troubling association since they’re in such an uncared for box when they could easily have been moved into something better long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves that box alone as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s then that Prime joins him and hops onto a box, scaling up to the topmost box on a stack of three to watch Connor. He smiles at the cat briefly before continuing to look over the boxes. While looking them over, he takes notice of a picture frame wedged behind some of the boxes that are pushed closest to the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime leaps from his vantage point onto Connor’s shoulder, claws digging in before he jumps again, this time to the floor. He follows Connor as he reaches behind the boxes to retrieve the picture frame, sniffing at it curiously and meowing. Connor pets his head dismissively as he stands straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The picture is of Gavin and another man - Captain Dylan Allen of Detroit’s SWAT unit, Connor’s scanners supply - and it’s evident that it was taken while both were caught off guard. Gavin is nearly doubled over laughing, and Dylan has an arm around his shoulders, head thrown back with mirth. It looks like a lovely picture, and both look happy, so Connor can’t find a reason for it to be hidden away behind everything. He looks it over a few different times, inspecting their surroundings. It’s a bar, and, judging by the cheap paper hat laid out on a table beside them and the party blower between Dylan’s fingers, they were celebrating something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only more confused by the picture, Connor sighs and decides to leave. He innocently leaves the picture frame on top of a box as he leaves, unsure of where else he could put it amongst this mess without it getting damaged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime darts from the room when the door opens. He runs back to the living room to beg more, and Connor catches him hopping onto the coffee table to lick Gavin’s bowl clean. Before he can do so, Connor takes the bowl and fork, sparing Gavin a glance. He’s curled up on the couch. His back is to the rest of the room, and his head rests on his arm so he can hide his face in the crook of his elbow. He looks peaceful for once, and it’s nice to see him so at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Prime leaps onto the couch and finds a spot near Gavin’s belly to curl up, Connor leaves to clean Gavin’s bowl and fork. Afterwards, he takes to cleaning up the rest of the house, steering clear of Gavin’s room. He leaves the living room for last since he doesn’t want to wake Gavin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The living room isn’t too dirty, but it’s not the cleanest either. Connor sets about picking up stray pieces of trash and pushing furniture back into place, careful not to scratch floors or make much noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he’s picking up trash from the coffee table, Connor looks up at the sound of Gavin grunting and shifting irritably in his sleep. Prime steps onto Gavin’s hip and jumps away just before the man in question shifts to half lay on his back with another grunt. When Connor scans his vitals, he takes note of the increased heart rate and frowns. He struggles for a few moments to come up with a solution. Without further contemplation, he reaches forward and gently and methodically cards through Gavin’s hair in hopes to soothe him back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh so gradually, it works.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gavin slowly calms back down and curls up onto his side once more. When his breathing returns to normal and his heart rate slows back down, Connor stands and continues to gather trash. He waits about ten minutes after he’s done cleaning the living room. He idly plays with Prime or pets across his back while he waits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the ten minutes are up and Gavin has yet to stir, Connor writes out a simple note and leaves it on the coffee table. Connor gently nudges Prime back from the door with his shoe so the kitten won’t escape when it opens and he leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The ride home on the bus is uneventful and dull, but Connor is able to use the time to catalog his day and review every instance from his time in Gavin’s home. Nothing very notable stands out except that picture and the mess Gavin had made of his living quarters, but neither were all that noteworthy either. It does make him curious if Gavin is doing as well as he presents at the precinct, though. It was about as messy and unorganized as Hank’s house was the first time Connor went there, but on the contrary, Gavin’s house looked lived in, and there was some degree of care that went into it. It wasn’t much by any means, but it was evident in little things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prime’s spaces were the most well-loved while everything else seemingly took the backburner. It was worrisome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor sighs softly and takes out his coin to fidget with it in the last few minutes of the bus ride. Gavin wouldn’t appreciate the concern in the least, so it had to be kept under wraps. Hank would listen, though, and the thoughts and concerns wouldn’t be plaguing him nearly as bad as before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a frustrated sigh, Connor leans his face into a hand. It feels far later than it should be, though it must be because of the exhaustion he’s experiencing. He hadn’t managed to go into stasis the previous few days due to personal questions and projects he’d been exploring, and now, after the emotional rollercoaster today’s been, he wishes for nothing more than to rest. He wants to curl up with Sumo and Hank and watch a rerun of a show from decades ago and fall asleep feeling safe and sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor focuses on the nice thought the rest of the ride back, and when he gets home, is happy to find Hank there after he mentioned going to the store yesterday. When he gets inside, Sumo greets him with a wagging tail and a loud, “Ruff!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there, Sumo,” Connor dotes, crouching down to kiss Sumo’s nose and scratch behind his ears. “I hope you were a good boy for Hank while I was away.” Sumo pulls away to sniff at Connor’s hands. “Detective Reed’s kitten wasn’t being a good boy the entire time, and I had to make sure he didn’t steal Reed’s meal. He’s sweet, though. His name is Prime.” In response, Sumo licks Connor’s hand and woofs again, lolling his tongue happily. Standing up with a smile, Connor meets Hank’s eyes as he stands at the end of the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d that trip go?” Hank steps closer and pats Sumo’s head before turning his full attention to Connor. “Was he grouchy and bitchy as ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was quite docile, actually,” Connor explains. He leads them to the living room and sits down on the couch with a contemplative sigh. “He’s… difficult and complicated to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re putting it too nicely.” Hank sits opposite Connor, watching Sumo who plops down in his bed across the room. “Everyone at the precinct knows he’s a reckless bastard who doesn’t give a fuck about others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I highly doubt that’s true, Detective. He seems to care a lot about others… Just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In his own way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… I suppose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re giving him too much credit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe so, but I also believe that he’s not doing nearly as well as we’re all led to believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s news to me… What’s up? Other than the whole thing last week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor frowns and sighs, unsure of how he could phrase what’s on his mind. It takes a few seconds for his mind to tick into gear before he explains. “I believe that he’s very affected by what happened. I don’t think he wants others knowing about it, as well, and by what I saw when I went to his apartment, I doubt that all that time in his head will be doing him any favors. If anything, it’ll be doing the opposite. He seems like the type to let it consume him… Which is what I fear for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno what you want me to do with this, Con,” Hank mutters, eyebrows knit together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know either; however, I believe it’ll be best to stay in contact with him. Even if concern is never explicitly stated and we continue to just talk about frivolous things, I believe it would do him good. The familiar company will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. You can keep doing that. ‘M not stopping you. Don’t think it’s your greatest idea, but I won’t clip your wings or any of that shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor nods. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Hank waits a few seconds for Connor to add more. He breaks the silence with a sigh. “What else is going on in that brain of yours? Don’t you dare try and tell me you don’t have a brain to avoid this either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence washes over them for a few, tense seconds before Connor finally speaks. “I’m worried about him, Hank.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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